


Gunshots

by ithinkitscold



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cuddling, M/M, PTSD McCree, allow me to p r o j e c t, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 18:33:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15102545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ithinkitscold/pseuds/ithinkitscold
Summary: McCree has a PTSD nightmare, and Hanzo helps him calm down.





	Gunshots

**Author's Note:**

> just a drabble to comfort myself

Gunshots. McCree’s eyes shot open, the sound still resounding in his ears. His skin felt alive, an electric jolt of adrenaline forcing its way into his veins. He felt his vision constrict in synchronous with his chest, his sight and throat reduced to a tiny point. His head spun on a swivel, hand flying to his hip, scrabbling for his gun. When he felt nothing there but boxer fabric and wiry leg hairs, his mind reeled. Where’s the gun where’sthefuckinggunneedthegun. The body twisting next to him sent him skittering away to the far corner of the bed, bedsheets tangled weblike around him.  
“McCree?” The sleep in his voice did little to disguise the annoyance in his words. “What in the devil are you doing?”  
McCree’s chest heaved, breaths coming shallow and fast through his restricted trachea. Immediately, Hanzo’s features softened, the little flame in his eye dying.  
“That dream again?” He murmured as he moved the bedsheets aside, scooting down the bed to Jesse’s side. “Deep breaths, now. Focus on your breathing.”  
He placed his hand on Jesse’s chest, feeling his shallow, sharp breaths.  
“Breathe in. Slowly. Can you do that for me? Please?” His amber eyes flashed in the dim light, commanding voice barely covering his anxiety.  
“Breathe with me. In… And out. In... And out.” He stroked one hand through Jesse’s hair, letting it fall and play lightly across his shoulder, other never leaving the other man’s chest.  
“Good,” he murmured, as he felt the rises of Jesse’s chest even and slow. “Very good, Jesse.”  
McCree took a deep, shaky breath, letting his shoulders relax. He let his eyes rove the small room, letting his mind settle on its dimly lit features. A painting hung above the headboard, a flowing landscape of a beach, tranquil blue waters rising to meet a deep red sunset. The walls around it were a light tan. The bedspread was white.  
He closed his eyes, letting his mind open to sounds, taking in the whirring of the air conditioning, the distant wailing of sirens, the low buzz of traffic in a neon city that never slept.  
He could smell the sweat on his body, the light traces of alcohol, and the cologne that Hanzo favored.  
Beneath his fingers, he could the soft weave of the bedspread, and on his chest was the presence of Hanzo’s hand, a light pressure and warmth.  
He opened his eyes again, and there was Hanzo, body still in the dimness, unmoved from his position.  
“Shit.” The word fell from McCree’s mouth, shaky and unsure in the aftermath. “Musta scared ya pretty bad, huh sugar?”  
Hanzo shook his head slightly, hair moving in waves about it.  
“No. You merely surprised me.” McCree could see right through him. His shoulders were tense, his forehead bearing a small wrinkle, a telltale sign he’d had his eyebrows furrowed.  
Mccree took a deep breath.  
“Thank ya, sugar.” He let his head drop, resting it on the other man’s shoulder, and turned his eyes to gaze into Hanzo’s.  
Hanzo hummed quietly, an expression of contentment, and raised his arm to play with McCree’s shaggy hair. They stayed like that, McCree’s form slumped into Hanzo’s side as he played his fingers through the other’s hair.  
The world outside buzzed along, far, far below them, neon light filtering through their blinds.  
Eventually, Hanzo rolled his shoulders, a signal for McCree to move.  
“Lie down. Please.” He gestured to where McCree had lain before. The pillow was slightly damp from McCree's sweat, and he flipped it over, savouring the cool sensation.  
Hanzo laid down behind him, wrapping his arm around McCree’s midsection, pulling the larger man’s back against his chest. McCree shuffled slightly, positioning his hips even closer to the other man’s, indulging in the feeling of being held. He sighed contentedly, letting his eyes drift shut, the feeling of the other man’s breath playing across his neck the last sensation that sent him back to sleep.


End file.
